


I Don't Want To Go Home Alone

by gotemsayingwow



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2001), Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Kyoru Week 2020, Manga Spoilers, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, chapter 7 is just 1279 words of sexual tension with no plot at all, these idiots mean everything to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26836006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotemsayingwow/pseuds/gotemsayingwow
Summary: When life gives you Kyoru Week 2020, you write gratuitous fluff. I, unfortunately, am not able to write anything BUT fluff, so make sure you brush your teeth!Rated Mature for future chapters!This is cross-posted on FFN and Tumblr as well! I am gotemsayingwow on FFN and gotemsayingw0w on Tumblr.
Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou
Comments: 33
Kudos: 128





	1. My Wish

The truth is, they’re both still plagued by nightmares. They stopped for a while. When Tohru Honda first came home from the hospital, her life was, in a word, blissful. It was everything she’d been dreaming of for the year leading up to it. 

She had spent the better part of a year (maybe longer, if she really thought about it), pining for a man she never thought she’d have. She had resigned herself to the fact that he didn’t feel the same about her. She had told herself to just try to smile when she saw him once more. 

But then there Kyo was, kneeling in front of her. Begging for her forgiveness. Admitting that, yes, of course, he did feel the same way about her. He didn’t want a life without her in it. He grabbed her, held her close to him, kissed her, and everything was right with the world.

Happily ever after, right? In the abstract, yes, but real life isn’t a fairytale.

Neither Kyo nor Tohru had led easy lives leading up to their courtship and, while the initial excitement and intimacy of a new relationship helped them each forget the pain they had endured and the anxiety that plagued them, it didn’t erase it entirely. Slowly, reality comes creeping back in and those negative thoughts and downward spirals come back, too.

For Kyo, it seemed to happen when he was awake. The first time she caught him slipping into a dark place was a few months after her accident. She had woken to the featherlight touch of his fingers, tracing the scar from where she’d recently had her stitches removed. It was well past midnight when her eyes flickered open, searching for the tickling sensation that pulled her from her sleep. She watched his finger, tracing the puckered line from where Akito’s knife had cut through her shirt and into her shoulder. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him.

“Sorry,” Kyo had said, startled. “Did I hurt you?”

Hurt her? No, the physical pain of that wound was long gone. Akito’s knife didn’t cut her nearly as deep as the look on Kyo’s face, illuminated only by moonlight, did that evening. It was the same look he had every time she wore clothing that revealed her shoulders. With his eyes, he’d scan the three scars, almost exactly parallel, and his face would twist in pain: a perfect cocktail of remorse and self-loathing.

She knew the look well. She knew what was repeating over and over in his head. This is my fault. The thoughts ran through his head, grief evident on his face. They soured his days and darkened his mood through no fault of her own. It was his innermost demons that grabbed the goofy, cuddly boy she’d come to know and swallowed him whole. It was the nightmares he battled when awake that were the hardest for him.

For Tohru, however, the nightmares returned after six months of uninterrupted sleep. Nightmares that had plagued her during high school, especially since her mom died, jerked her awake. She’d sit up, sweating and panting, wrenched from her sleep by visions of her mother dying, of Kyo running from her, of her body hitting the hard-packed ground.

It wasn’t a nightly issue, but the nightmares had certainly picked up as graduation approached. She didn’t doubt that it was the anxiety she spent time shoving down during her waking hours catching up with her in her sleep. 

On this particular night, she sprang upright, her skin cool and damp, her jaw clenched, and her eyes wide. The nightmare that had jerked her awake was an amalgam of her deepest fears recently. It was Kyo, standing in the rain, telling her he was disillusioned. But this time it was well after they’d moved away.

Tohru often wondered if Kyo would wake up one day in the future and feel differently about her. About their relationship. Free from the curse, he had the freedom to do anything he wanted. Her insecurities remind her, on occasion, that life with her wouldn’t be enough for him. That she’d be forgotten because of her many faults. That it wouldn’t be long before he realized there were better things in store for him in life.

Tohru’s hands instinctively scrambled to grab at the sheets next to her, looking to grab Kyo’s hand and wrap herself in his arms, seeking comfort. But tonight, he wasn’t here. 

Kyo had maintained a permanent spot in her bed for months now. In the not too distant past, she slept alone, but now she couldn’t imagine a night without him. It wasn’t just the moments before they fell asleep, where they’d spend an hour wrapped up in one another, completely intertwined. It was listening to the steady rise and fall of his breathing as she curled up next to him. It was when she woke up in the middle of the night, nightmare or not, and she could snuggle into his chest to fall back to sleep. 

Tohru released her grip on the sheets where Kyo’s body should have been. Glancing at her phone, she realized it was nearly three in the morning. She frowned and rose from bed, pulling on a pair of leggings to brace her from the chilly house.

She tiptoed into the hall and peered into his room. It was empty. Downstairs, there was a faint trail of steam rising from the tea kettle, but all of the lights were off. She walked to the genkan, sliding on a pair of shoes, and tiptoed around to the side of the house. Carefully, ignoring the cold, damp air sending chills down her spine, she climbed the ladder that stood in its usual spot. 

Of course Kyo was there. He sat in his usual perch, bundled in one of his favorite worn hoodies and sweatpants. The roof tiles were sure to be cold, and the light puff of steam that followed his breath betrayed his calm demeanor. He didn’t look cold, but he had to be. She carefully shuffled towards him and sat down, grabbing his hand in hers and resting her head on his shoulder.

“It’s late,” she reminded him. 

“I could say the same to you,” he responded, chuckling as he kissed her head. “What are you doing up here? It’s damn cold.”

She nodded, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. It was cold, but she ignored it. “I woke up and you were gone, so I came to find you.” She gently pressed her free hand to his cold cheek, turning him to face her. She scanned his face and, from the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw, she can tell he’s been thinking. He’s been overthinking. “What’s on your mind?”

She half-expected him to say that nothing was bothering him. To pretend that he simply just couldn’t sleep. But even the darkness of the night couldn’t hide the truth. He whispered “Honestly? I’m really fucking scared.”

Tohru returned her head to his shoulder and nodded. She didn’t prompt him to continue, but he did anyway. “My whole life this is exactly what I wanted. To be able to live outside. To have freedom from that damn curse and actually live.” He sighed and raggedly ran a hand through his hair. “Turns out the future is a lot less scary when you don’t actually have to plan it.”

She smiled a sad smile. She understood, of course. She knew exactly what he meant. Graduation was exciting, moving away was exciting, but it was all also bone-chillingly scary. She was terrified, too. 

She squeezed his hand in hers. “What specifically scares you?”

“I don’t know…” he responded. “Everything? I hardly remember a time when I didn’t live within walking distance to Shishou...I’ve never actually had a job let alone been responsible for finances. I don’t even think I know how to make a doctor’s appointment, Hatori has always just shown up once a year to poke at me.”

Kyo sighed before continuing. “And then there’s you.”

Tohru’s eyes widened at the phrase, and she felt her nerves come to life inside her. “What about me?”

“Tohru, I love you so goddamn much, but that’s fucking scary, too,” He said. “What if we move and you’re not happy? What if you decide it’s not the life you want, that I’m not the life you want? I can’t…” He paused, taking in another breath before saying “I can’t stand the feeling that you’d pretend to be happy for my sake.”

“Kyo-kun, I already told you--” she started, but he cut her off.

“I know, I know,” he said. “I know you said it was what you wanted, too. I just...I don’t know. It still freaks me out that you’d even be willing to do it. I keep waiting for you to change your mind.”

She nodded again. Her instinct was to reassure him, but she could hardly reassure him when she couldn’t do the same for herself. “I keep waiting for you to do that, too,” she admits.

He didn’t try to reassure her either. Instead, he rested his head on top of hers and said “Is that why you’re awake?” She nodded once more, feeling a somberness settle inside her. Kyo wrapped his arms tight around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest.

Warmth radiated off of him, both a physical warmth and an emotional warmth. She pulled in a deep breath, taking in his scent and he smelled like home. He didn’t try to take away her fear, but the comfort he provided to her was enough to quell the fear for the time being.

They sat in a quiet embrace before Kyo mumbled into her hair “What do you wish for?”

Tohru pulled away, confused. “What do I wish for?”

“Yeah, you asked me that like a year ago up here and I was just thinking about it,” Kyo said. Tohru remembered that night well. The tears she identified then as sadness, but she identifies now as longing. 

What does she wish for? Her initial response is ‘nothing.’ She has everything she could ever want. It would be selfish to wish for anything more. She already has enough, she doesn’t deserve any more of her wishes to come true. But that’s not the response he was looking for and she knew it. It also wasn’t the truth. Of course she wished for more and that was okay, too.

“I wish that…” Tohru started, trying to formulate the sentence correctly. “I wish that even when life is scary or hard, Kyo-kun is still there and we can get through it together.” She has no explanation for why her eyes fill with tears when she says it and he doesn’t ask. Instead, he kisses her sweetly on the lips.

“That’s a good wish,” He said, his face millimeters from hers. “I can do that.”

“What do you wish for?” She asked as he wiped a stray tear with his thumb.

He offered her a soft grin. “I wish that a certain someone would stop crying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song for you to listen to while you read this: Losing Me by Gabrielle Aplin & JP Cooper


	2. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tohru's desire to smother her children and her desire to be a totally normal, independence-encouraging mom collide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My rendition for day 2 of Kyoru Week 2020, prompt: dream. This is post-canon Furuba and pre-canon Furubana. I have such a soft spot for Tohru Sohma, Mom of the Year. A song for you while you read: Remember You Young by Thomas Rhett

If Tohru Sohma was asked to describe her dream life, it would, undoubtedly, be the one she was currently living. The only thing she would ever wish for was that her mother would be here to see it. She was  _ so  _ blessed and she knew never to take anything for granted. Sure, they’d had some tougher times over the years, but everything culminated into the life she had now. She was grateful for those challenges, because they made her appreciate all of the wonderful pieces of life all that much better.

It wasn’t as if their family wasn’t normal. In fact, they were probably  _ painfully _ normal. Tohru and her husband, Kyo, were rigid in routines and tried to instill the value of work and education in their three children. The five of them ate dinner together nightly. Kyo and Tohru went to every school event and extracurricular activity. On Saturdays, the kids had a ritual of waking mama and papa up early, crawling under the thick blankets on their bed and cuddling with one another even if the bed was too small to fit all five of them.

Tohru was certain she was an overbearing mother. She worried incessantly about their children. She tried not to make a big deal of small things, even when they terrified her. When Hajime, her oldest son, came home after school with a scrape on his knee, she initially panicked about the blood and potential for infection. But later that evening, when Hajime had confided in her that someone on the playground had pushed him, she nearly lost it. She nodded patiently, prompting Hajime to continue his story, all while vivid images of her as a child his age being bullied flashed through her mind. When Hajime concluded the story by telling Tohru that he had pushed the other kid in return, her panic shifted from Hajime being bullied to Hajime getting into fights at school, emulating the tumultuous school years of his father.

Kyo teased her for worrying too much, but he was just as worried as she was. It just so happened that all of his worries remained internal, torturing him from the inside, while her worries sent her talking at the speed of light, all through her tears. 

She had been warned that her constant, overbearing worrying could backfire on her one day when her children grew older. She was fully aware, especially after reading book after book about child development when she was first pregnant with Hajime, that as her children neared middle school, she would probably embarrass them. Even so, now, she couldn’t help it. Hajime was nearing that age, but she couldn’t seem to curb those feelings. The intense need to  _ smother  _ him with love was overpowering. He was still her baby boy. She could hardly help it.

She tried, though. She did want him to be independent and have a fulfilling life. She encouraged sleepovers with friends and independence when it came to chores. She didn’t force him to talk about everything that was bothering him, she really tried.

And so, on this particular morning, she decided to roll with the independence for which Hajime had asked her. It was a school morning, which always seemed to be the most stressful part of everyone’s day. Kyo had to work early, which left her to prepare her two sons for the day. Hajime, who had just begun his fifth year in elementary school, was fairly independent. His younger brother, Seiji, who had only just begun his first year, was a mess. He walked out of his shared room this morning wearing his summer uniform, which sent both Hajime and Tohru into a fit of explaining  _ why  _ he couldn’t wear his summer uniform when it was still very much April. Then, of course, Seiji spilled his milk on his freshly changed uniform, which led him to put on his third outfit for the day. 

When Tohru asked the boys if they had everything they needed for school, they both nodded. She trusted Hajime’s nod. He’d been attending school for the better part of six years now. He knew exactly what he needed in his school bag. On the other hand, she didn’t trust Seiji at all with that responsibility. Especially because she could plainly see his  _ bento _ and his folder sitting on the counter where she had left them for him. 

Finally, satisfied that everyone’s bags were packed and their bodies appropriately dressed, she announced “Just give me a minute to get your sister and my shoes and we can go.” She turned to do those exact things when Hajime called after her.

“Mom,” he said. “Can we please walk by ourselves this morning?”

It stopped her in her tracks. For one, she had walked them both to school since it had started last week. And she had walked Hajime to school in the years before that. Never, not once, did she consider stopping that trend, especially when they were still in elementary school. But here Hajime was, asking if he could simply walk with  _ just  _ his brother.

He knew the way to school of course. It was the same route he had taken every morning since he first began attending school. She knew he’d be responsible for his younger brother, who didn’t yet know the way and was still too young to walk by himself. It wasn’t Hajime’s responsibility she was questioning.

Hajime pleaded and got his brother to plead as well. He argued that he would hold Seiji’s hand the whole way. She could trust them. And, by the way, she didn’t need to wait for them after school. They’d walk home by themselves as well. She relented, despite her desperation, because he was right. He was old enough. It would be fine. 

She stood in the  _ genkan _ , watching her two auburn-haired boys head off for school, down the street, and around the corner without her. Her heart ached and she was tempted to cry, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned to get her daughter from her seat in the living room, and started her day.

She worked every day at the dojo with Kyo, often meeting him there after she had dropped the boys off at school. All three of Kyo and Tohru’s children had grown up spending days at the dojo with mom and dad. Kyo taught classes while she worked at the front desk, scheduling and billing clients. With the older of her two children now in school, it was just her and their youngest, Emiko, in the front lobby. Emiko sat and played at Tohru’s feet behind the desk, just as her brothers had. She curled up on the benches by the front window, taking her daily nap in the sun. She charmed the clients, who had gotten to know the young Sohma family over the years. 

Tohru left earlier than Kyo each day, often stopping by the grocery store before heading to the school to pick up the boys. They would walk home together and Tohru would prepare dinner while Hajime did his homework at the  _ chabudai _ table with his siblings playing at her feet in the kitchen. Kyo would join them all in the early evening. The routine repeated daily and she loved every moment of it.

That morning, she went through all of her usual work tasks. She updated the calendar for the day, checked to see if there were any cancellations or substitute teachers needed, listened to the voicemails for the dojo phone, and tallied up payments she had received. Emiko played behind her, paying no mind to the quiet melancholy in her mother’s demeanor.

Kyo joined them in the lobby, as he always did, for lunch and the afternoon lull between classes. He sat on the floor behind her desk absentmindedly playing with Emiko while eating the bento Tohru had brought him from home. Tohru, on the other hand, picked at hers and glanced frequently at the clock. She was vaguely listening to what Kyo was saying about the toddlers class, her absolute favorite group of students.

Kyo gently kicked her calf with his bare foot. “Hello?” He asked. “Earth to Tohru.”

She shook the clouds away from her vision and turned to look him in the eye. “Sorry!” She exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly. “Anyway, you were saying about the little ones…” she prompted him to continue.

Kyo frowned, not taking her bait to continue the conversation. “What’s wrong?” He asked, perceptive as always. “Did something happen?”

The second the words came out of his mouth, Tohru felt hot tears sting the backs of her eyes. They quickly spilled over, racing down her cheeks, and Kyo leapt to his feet, reaching for a box of tissues on the counter.

“Jeez, okay,” He said, handing her one tissue while using another to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting that. You’re not pregnant again, are you?” He joked, though an undercurrent of concern reached her ears.

She smiled and said “No, not that.” She blew her nose and shook her head. “Sorry, we had a...rough morning this morning.”

Kyo propped himself up on the reception desk, facing her. “Did the boys give you a hard time or somethin’?” He asked, genuine concern etching his face. “Or was it this one?” He asked, nudging their daughter with his foot. She pouted up at him, but didn’t respond.

“No, no,” Tohru insisted. “They were fine. It’s just…” She paused, trying to find the words for the emotions she was experiencing. “Hajime called me ‘ _ mom _ .’”

The confusion was plain on Kyo’s face. “Is that...not what you are?”

“No,” she explained, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, I’m not ‘mom,’” she explained, emphasizing the word mom with a bratty tone. “I’m ‘ _ mama. _ ’”

Kyo said nothing in response, but the corners of his mouth twitched up. He found it funny, of course. Objectively Tohru, too, found it ridiculous, but she couldn’t help the tears. She continued her explanation, sharing about how Hajime had insisted on walking to school without her and how she didn’t need to pick him up anymore. How he could take care of his little brother just fine. They didn’t want her to walk with them. They didn’t  _ need  _ her to walk with them.

When she finally finished the whole, sordid tale, she looked up at his grin and pouted. “It’s not nice to laugh at people when they’re sad.”

Kyo grabbed her hand, still smiling, and said “I promise I’m not laughing at you. Honestly, it’s kind of cute. Hajime talked to me about this exact situation last night.”

Tohru gasped, her jaw nearly hitting the surface of her desk. “He  _ did _ ?” She asked, incredulous. “When?”

“When you were in the bath,” Kyo explained. “He was in the kitchen with me all concerned about if he was allowed to walk to school alone or not.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him ‘of course you can walk to school by yourself,’” Kyo told her. Tohru frowned at him, but he put his hand on hers reassuringly. “He was scared you would be upset with him, so he wanted to ask me first. He said, word for word ‘I just don’t want to make her cry, you know?’”

Tohru’s heart melted at the sentiment. And here she was, crying. Exactly what Hajime had wanted to avoid.

“You know it’s a  _ good  _ thing, right?” Kyo asked, squeezing her fingers in his.

“I know, I just…” Tohru trailed off. “I just want him to stay little. I don’t want him to grow up. I don’t want to be ‘ _ mom.’ _ ”

“You called your mom ‘mom,’” Kyo reminded her gently. “And you still loved her, didn’t you?”

“Of course, but…” She couldn’t think of a counterargument. 

“And of course Hajime still loves you,” Kyo insisted. “Can you imagine if I had said ‘no, you can’t walk by yourself?’ He would have let you walk him this morning. He loves you so much that he had to make sure it was okay first.” Tohru nodded. “Think how happy he was that you trusted him. He probably loves you even more now.”

Tohru nodded again and rested her head on Kyo’s abdomen. He kissed the top of her head as she let out a deep breath. He was right. It was okay. She supposed she could be ‘mom’ from now on. She would have to accept it eventually.

* * *

Later that night she was preparing dinner as usual. This time, it was only her and Hajime downstairs, the younger two were playing somewhere above her. When Hajime and Seiji came in from school that afternoon, she greeted them and asked how their day was. She did all of the usual things she would do, pretending as if it was a totally normal occurrence for them to walk home from school alone. 

Behind her, she heard Hajime gently tapping his mechanical pencil on the surface of the  _ chabudai  _ table. Soft rustling of pages and the brush of an eraser on paper made the soundtrack for her evenings. Hajime quietly groaned.

“You okay?” Tohru asked, walking to the  _ shoji _ door and leaning gently on its frame. 

“I’m fine,” Hajime responded and she nodded, turning to go back into the kitchen. It was only a moment before Hajime spoke again. “Actually, mama, can you help me with this? I have no idea what’s going on in this book.”

Tohru smiled and turned the pot on the stove down to the lowest heat setting. She kneeled next to him and he handed her the book and the questions. As she scanned the page, she recognized the familiar text she had read herself back when she was his age. She grinned at him and began to explain it, all while the phrase ‘ _ mama, can you help me with this _ ?’ echoed in her mind. 

Kyo was right; Hajime’s independence was a good thing. But she loved the boy in front of her, who still needed her. The sweet, sweet boy who she always dreamed of before they started their family. One who loved her enough to worry about being  _ too  _ independent and the one who, despite receiving that independence, still needed her help from time to time. 


	3. Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 for Kyoru Week 2020! Prompt: Tease  
> A song for you: Young And In Love by Ingrid Michaelson

Kyo Sohma didn’t know if it was the absence of the cat spirit that had left him unobservant or if he was just _really_ dense. His girlfriend, Tohru, claimed it was just his cat-like reflexes and instincts that had slowed down as he was no longer possessed by an animal. Everyone else called him an idiot. He was starting to think everyone else was right.

He had always startled easily, but usually he was able to keep his reflexes in check. And he certainly was never one to scream. But for some reason, when he and Tohru moved into their first apartment together, she would catch him by surprise frequently. It wasn’t like much had changed, but now that it was just the two of them, maybe the absence of noise made him feel more comfortable. And then she would come around a corner she wasn’t expecting, asking him a question, and he would jump right out of his skin.

At first she apologized profusely, but quickly it became a game for her. She didn’t go out of her way to hide from him, but he could tell she was being extra quiet as she tiptoed around their home. She hugged her body tightly to the walls and didn’t wear any jewelry. Nothing that could clang together and make a noise announcing her presence.

The first time she actually hid from him on _purpose_ was the summer after they’d moved in. He had gotten home before Tohru that day, which was unusual because her job had ended so much earlier than his. But her shoes were missing from the _genkan_ and her purse was nowhere to be found, so it was clear she hadn’t been home. He had decided to make a pot of tea in the kitchen for himself, and was singing along to the song he’d blasted through his headphones on the walk home.

He reached down to grab the canister of tea leaves from the lowest shelf in their tiny pantry and there Tohru was, absolutely contorted, but tucked neatly onto the shelf, her shoes still on and purse still slung around her shoulder. She chirped “Hi there! Looking for your tea?”

Kyo leapt about six feet in the air, shouting “holy _shit_!” His heart was racing and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. “Have you lost your mind?”

Tohru crawled out of the cabinet, giggling. “Sorry,” she said, not too convincingly. “I couldn’t help it.”

Kyo scowled, “You most certainly _could have_ ‘helped it.’ Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

Tohru uncoiled herself and wrapped her arms around his neck, grabbing on tight and dropping her feet out from under her so he was holding her. He gripped her waist with his hands and asked “Now what are you doing?”

Tohru blushed. “Can you carry me to the _genkan_ so I can take off my shoes? It’s rude to keep them on in the house.”

“It’s rude to scare the shit out of people, too,” Kyo said, walking her over to the _genkan_ , but tossing her the final few steps. “Why the hell did you do that?” He asked, heart finally calming down after its scare. 

Tohru pouted as she slipped off her shoes. “I’ve never been scary or threatening before!” She insisted. “It’s kind of fun to be so scary.” 

Kyo grimaced. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. You are _not_ threatening and you did _not_ scare me.”

Tohru giggled as she slipped her arms around his neck again. “But I _did_ scare you, Kyo-kun. I am a very scary person.”

“No, you’re just a dope,” He responded, still grumpy from the scare, but recovered enough to kiss her on the forehead before he rapped it with his fist. “I’m watching you,” he warned, before returning to the kitchen to finish making his cup of tea.

* * *

She didn’t do it often, but there were several times that followed where he would find her lurking behind closet doors, stuffed into other cabinets, or shimmying her body out from under the bed. And he couldn’t help it; he still jumped out of his skin every time. And every time, Tohru ended up with a massive grin on her face, always mocking him and his nerves.

On this day in particular, however, she finally received some sort of punishment. Kyo came home earlier than usual, but found her shoes in the _genkan_. He called out to her but didn’t hear a response. From deeper in the apartment, he heard the shower fan running. It was strange of her to take a shower in the middle of the day, but he didn’t think much of it. Instead, he dropped his bag on the floor and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Tohru, meanwhile, had turned on the shower fan as a trap. Rather than bathing, she was hiding in the tiny space between the refrigerator and the wall where they store their broom and mop. As Kyo entered the kitchen, she popped out and said “Gotcha!”

Kyo, terrified and shocked that she was not only not in the shower, but was actually trying to scare him _again_ , dropped the container he was holding on the floor. It burst open, its contents splattering onto the floor creating a sticky mess at his feet.

“ _Dammit_ , Tohru!” Kyo shouted, placing a hand over his face to hide his look of sheer fright. 

As Tohru slid out fully from behind the fridge, she peered at the floor, trying to discern what Kyo had been holding that made such a mess. She knelt down on the floor, inspecting the contents further, and was met with the scent of chocolate. Taking a finger and carefully pressing it into the pile of mush on the floor, she took a sample. Popping it in her mouth she realized it was cake. A slice of cake from one of her favorite bakeries in their neighborhood.

“It’s cake!” Tohru said, leaping to her feet, excited.

“It _was_ cake,” Kyo groaned, shaking his head. “Thanks to you it’s now just a pile of mush.”

“That’s okay, is there more?” She asked, searching his hands and then peering around the corner.

“ _No,_ ” Kyo said, incredulous at the question. “No, there is not ‘more,’ Why would I bring home two separate containers of cake?” He asked rhetorically. Tohru shrugged. “And furthermore, what the _hell_ are you doing?”

Tohru lowered her gaze, now embarrassed. “I was trying to scare you,” she responded. “I didn’t think you’d be carrying cake.”

Kyo smirked and quirked an eyebrow up, appreciating her sheepish expression. “See,” he scolded, wagging a finger in her face. “This is what you get for trying to scare people. You lose the special cake someone buys you for White Day.”

Tohru’s jaw dropped. “It’s White Day?” She asked, incredulous. She whirled around to look at the calendar they had tacked up in the kitchen. Sure enough, he was right. It was White Day. She had no idea. Kyo chuckled at her bewildered expression as he ran a rag under the warm water to begin to clean up the cake. He knelt down and began scrubbing the floor.

“Kyo-kun, I’m _so_ sorry,” She insisted, kneeling down next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her pleading expression and tried not to laugh. “Really!” She exclaimed. “I’m really, _really_ sorry.”

Kyo rolled his eyes and gently knocked her backwards so she was sitting on her bottom. “Sure, you’re sorry _now_.”

“No, I am!” She insisted, her dark eyes wide and pleading. “You went to all the trouble to get me cake and I was so mean!” She grabbed his hand in hers, ignoring the fact that he had chocolate icing now smeared on his palms. “I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

“Well, now I just don’t believe you,” he responded, wiping a bit of chocolate icing on her nose.

“No, no, you were right! This is why I shouldn’t scare people. And Kyo-kun…” she sniffled and Kyo immediately felt the intense pull of guilt in his heart. “And Kyo-kun was just trying to be sweet and I ruined it.” She covered her eyes and hung her head.

“Hey,” Kyo said, wrapping his arms around her shoulder. “It’s really not a big deal. Let me clean this up and we can go get some more cake.”

Tohru’s head immediately popped up, nearly clunking him in the nose. “Really?” She asked, her expression bright. “That’s so kind of you, Kyo-kun! I’ll go get my purse.” She rose to her feet and scampered off to the bedroom.

“Hey!” Kyo called after her, reaching for her ankle and missing. “That is _so_ unfair! You can’t trick me like that!”

Tohru popped her head around the corner once more, now wearing a sweater and holding her purse. She grinned broadly at him and he couldn’t help but smile in return. “I know...but it really is fun to tease you!” She giggled, closing her palm around her mouth. “And anyway, you had a two year head start on teasing me. Now it’s just my turn.” She winked at him and walked towards the door to slide on her shoes. 

Kyo wiped the last of the sticky chocolate icing off the floor and rose to join her in the _genkan._ As he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his wallet, he warned “I’m going to get you back somehow. Just you wait.”

Tohru grinned once more, slipping her hand into his and pulling him out of the door. “Oh, Kyo-kun, you can try. But I learned mischief from the best,” she flirted, poking him in the ribs. 

He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close as they walked. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just enjoy your damn White Day for today, but I’m warning you…” he teased. 

She stopped walking and pressed up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. “I’m very scared,” she replied, her grin betraying the sentiment. Kyo flushed and playfully pushed her away. “But first: cake!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is really just turning into my headcanon week. I have a deeply held headcanon that Tohru teases Kyo more than he teases her in their adult relationship. Don't ask me why I feel this way, I just do. Anyway, this is just a ridiculous piece with absolutely no plot, only fluff.
> 
> I am gotemsayingwow on FFN and gotemsayingw0w on Tumblr! Thanks so much for your kind words!


	4. Lover

On the first of September in a town that is now only mildly-foreign to him, Kyo Sohma picks up the keys to his new apartment from his landlord. It has been three months of working well over full time, eating cheap meals, and skimping on every possible expense, but the time has come. He has the keys. And now he has her to himself.  _ All  _ to himself.

Well, all to himself after he picked her up from work, that is. And he still has two fucking hours before that could even happen.

He hauls their few boxes up the stairs and into the small apartment. Tohru labeled them with her neat script the night before, so he knows where to put everything. Clothes in the bedroom, dishes in the kitchen, everything else (packed neatly into a single large box) in the living area. He doesn’t bother unpacking anything but the tea kettle. It isn’t like they have any furniture besides a dusty arm chair left behind from the previous tenants and a skinny vinyl mat that may have once been a futon. It doesn’t matter. They have a place to live, a place that is  _ theirs. _ Who needs furniture when he has that?

Furniture, honestly, was probably hovering around #12 on his list of priorities. 

He kills time with cleaning. The damp rag he runs around the countertops and through the cabinets ends up a dark brown by the time he has collected all of the dust and dirt. The open windows allow the breeze to filter through, airing out the three otherwise musty rooms. He sweeps all of the dust off of the  _ tatami _ floor and out onto the tiny balcony. 

Finally, it is time to get Tohru from work. He looks around, nods, and closes the door on the apartment. 

Their new home is closer to her workplace than to his, but that was part of his plan. She was almost always done with work before he was and, because he couldn’t be there to walk her home, he just prayed she would manage to stay safe on those three short blocks. It wasn’t as if they didn’t live in a safe neighborhood, but for some reason any slight bump on the sidewalk concerned him.

Tohru works at an elementary school as a teacher’s assistant. It wasn’t often he got to meet her after work, in fact she often came straight to the dojo after work to walk home with him instead. Before, when they were living with a friend of Shishou’s, they would avoid going home right away. They’d walk down to the shore or eat a vending machine dinner together in the park. They would get to enjoy their food  _ together,  _ alone, without the distractions of roommates they barely knew. 

He waits on the street opposite the school, watching as the students scatter off in all different directions. Once the schoolyard is clear, she emerges from the building, shielding her eyes from the late-afternoon sun. He watches as she scans the street before locking eyes with him and smiling.

Kyo doesn’t think he will  _ ever _ get tired of looking at her. As she walks towards him, Kyo notices the bounce in her step and the way it scatters her hair in the breeze. Her yellow cotton dress swishes around her knees and matches the yellow ribbon in her hair. She closes the distance between them and wraps her arms tight around his midsection.

“Hi,” She says, beaming up at him. 

“Hi,” He responds, kissing the top of her head. He reaches into his pocket and produces a silver key. “This is for you.”

She grins and reaches into her purse, producing a silver keychain with a tiny, polymer cat charm. Its orange color is clearly painted on with nail polish and he can’t help but grin back. She fastens the key to the charm and slides her hand into his.

“Let’s go home,” He says, unable to wipe the smile off his face. 

“Home,” she affirms and lets him lead the way.

* * *

They could make dinner or unpack, but the second they push through the entryway of their new home, their mouths are locked together as they kick off their shoes. 

Tohru presses her body into him as he leans against the front door. Her hands dance under his shirt and across his abdomen, featherlight touches that leave his skin burning. He dips his head into the curve of her neck and gently sucks, eliciting a soft moan.

Without looking, he grabs her purse from her shoulder and tosses it to the floor. He bends down and reaches his arm behind her knees, hauling her up and over his shoulder. She giggles as he carries her to their tiny bedroom, where a single cardboard box and one pink suitcase sit in the corner.

He stands her up in the middle of the room, pulling at the hem of her dress so it floats over her head and down to the floor. He runs his hands up and down her sides, relishing the curves that exist between her narrow waist and her hips. “There’s no bed,” he apologizes sheepishly.

“I don’t care,” she responds earnestly as she pulls at his t-shirt. He doesn’t care either. He lowers her down to the floor and the chill of the sticky vinyl futon there sends a shiver down her spine.

The sun appears from behind a cloud and floods her face and he swears to God she looks  _ angelic _ . He gently squeezes one of her breasts as his other hand fumbles at the clasp behind her. Her fingers knot in his hair and she sighs his name. 

She shrugs out of her bra and takes the moment to reach for the waistband of his joggers. With her feet, she slides them down his calves the rest of the way and he kicks them off behind him, his hand dipping between her legs. He teases her there for a moment, enjoying the fact that she’s not even trying to be quiet because she doesn’t have to be. 

Here, in their new home, there are no hushed whispers or silent groans. She doesn’t wrench her teeth into her lip to stifle her moan and he has no reason to sigh into her neck to muffle the sound. 

He fumbles his boxer briefs down to his ankles and, underneath him, she does the same thing with her cotton panties. She beckons him forward with her hips and he pushes inside, pressing his forehead against hers as he does so.

It isn’t the first time he’s loved her in this way and it certainly won’t be the last, but just like their first time together so many months ago at Shigure’s, this time is special. They are finally alone, finally able to be intimate without the risk of a housemate walking in or hearing them. He appreciates this moment with her, knowing that when he wakes up in the morning it will only be her in this apartment. She will be the only person he will see in the morning and she will always be the only person he needs to see.

“I love you,” she says, clear as day and he says it right back. And in their new home there is no need to whisper.

* * *

At some point, the sun starts to go down. Tohru crawls over to the box in the corner of the room and pulls out some linens to dress the pathetic futon that barely contains both of their bodies. They tick off a list of all of the things they will need to buy when the sting of paying first and last months’ rent wears off. 

After the sun has gone down completely and they lay bathed in the dim light from the streetlights outside, Tohru insists they get up and eat something. She slides on her underwear and throws his t-shirt over her head. When she rises to stand, he asks “Aren’t you going to put on some clothes?”

She shrugs. “No,” and dances off to the kitchen.

They eat instant ramen noodles in their underwear, sitting on the cold floor of their new living room. Tohru talks animatedly about all of the projects they can start tomorrow. She asks him for his opinion on everything and he simply nods and agrees with all of it (except for the part where she said they needed a pet cat). She only stops talking to take a bite of her food before she starts again. He watches her eyes dance around the room, widening every time she has a new idea, and laughs at her when she becomes out of breath from talking so much.

And in his head, he thinks about how she could do whatever she damn well pleased with the apartment and it wouldn’t matter to him. The only thing he needs is here, sitting next to him, giggling and resting her head on his shoulder. He has Tohru,  _ just  _ Tohru, and he is home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: my sister-in-law beta read this today while I taught my 1st graders on Zoom. She's never seen/read Furuba (she purely writes Criminal Minds fanfiction sooo...) so her point of view was coming purely from a story-telling perspective. Inspired by the song All to Myself by Dan + Shay, which might as well be Kyo Sohma's theme song post-canon.
> 
> Thank you for all of your kind words so far!!! I am really enjoying this challenge and the break it gives me from being a pandemic special education teacher!


	5. Precious

It had been bothering him all day. A nagging, itchy feeling on his left shoulder. Innocuous enough that it wasn’t debilitating, but annoying enough that it was starting to really piss him off. So much so, that the second he got home from work, he ripped the top of his  _ karategi _ off, searching for the culprit of his discomfort. 

Kyo Sohma considered himself a simple man. He never really cared for fashion, instead choosing loose, comfortable clothing that was easy to move around in. It was why he could pack every single item of clothing he owned in a single duffel bag if he really wanted to. It was why he could go for a several mile run in every single item of clothing he owned if he really needed to. It was why, despite teasing from his cousins, friends, and his girlfriend, he kept around clothes that others deemed “hideous.” They were comfortable, dammit. 

He  _ hated  _ tight clothes. He  _ hated  _ accessories. When he first began living with Shishou, he  _ hated  _ wearing his gi with his belt. He  _ hated  _ any type of rough, scratchy fabric. As he began running his fingers over the black fabric of his _gi_ , searching for a loose thread or piece of lint that was irritating him, he got even more pissed off because this _gi_ was perfectly worn in. If it was irreparably ruined he’d have to buy a new one and those took months to get to the loose, flexible uniform that Kyo deemed acceptable for work.

His fingers brushed over a small, raised bump and he grinned, triumphant that he wasn’t wrong, there  _ was  _ something off. There, among the stiff black cotton, was a series of tiny stitches, appearing to be in the shape of a heart.

“What the hell…” he whispered, bringing the cloth directly under the light of the flashlight on his phone. Sure enough, covering a small hole he didn’t remember having in this _gi_ , there was an embroidered heart. He pinched the fabric between his fingers to confirm that this tiny patch was what had been bothering him all day.

He was certain it was the work of Tohru, his girlfriend. He couldn’t possibly think of another person besides the two of them who handled their dirty laundry and he definitely was not going to be the one to sew a heart over the hole let alone even  _ notice _ it. 

He walked into the single bedroom in their apartment, still holding the  _ gi _ in his hand, running through his mind the various articles of clothing he had that had gathered small holes over the years. He never minded tiny little punctures in the sleeves or collars of his shirts or the weathered fabric in the knees of his pants. If something became  _ too _ ratty, he’d always just thrown it away. But for some reason, the tiny patch on his  _ gi _ connected something in his mind. He’d never held onto clothes this long before he knew Tohru. 

Sure enough, he pulled item after item out of their shared wardrobe that had small little patches sewing up holes in his clothes. Most of them were simple, almost inscrutable. Places where seams had torn and been re-stitched with care and precision, but certainly not the factory-made stitches that came with the clothes. On other pieces of his clothing, however, there were the same tiny patches. 

A pair of jeans with a tiny hole on the thigh had a tiny square sewn around it, the thread the same color as the denim. One of his favorite red hoodies that had garnered a small hole in the sleeve, had an embroidered triangle. His yellow v-neck that hardly fit anymore, but stayed in his wardrobe out of protest (he really didn’t think it was that ugly) had a tiny sun stitched around a hole in the hem. A pair of his most comfortable boxers had a tiny, orange cat sewn in the seat.

Quickly, a pile of mended clothes ended up at his feet until all that was left in his wardrobe were four white undershirts, a dearth of rarely-worn pants, and some of his less-preferred socks and underwear. Scattered around the floor were all of his most favorite, most comfortable clothing, somehow altered in an attempt to preserve their life.

The sound of a key turning in the door caught his attention and he listened as she called out in a sing-song tone, “I’m home!” The sound of rustling grocery bags, cabinets opening and closing, and water running from the sink brought him back down to Earth and, as Tohru’s footsteps neared their bedroom, he felt a blush creep to his cheeks. 

“I didn’t realize you would beat me home!” She said as she walked down the hallway towards the door. “Did you have...an early…” her voice trailed off as she entered the room. She scanned the floor and the bed, no doubt trying to process exactly what he was doing. 

“Hi,” Kyo said, holding an unscathed white undershirt in his hand as if he’d been caught committing a crime. 

“Hi,” Tohru breathed in response. She didn’t ask a question, but the curiosity in her eyes indicated she would like to know the answer.

“My  _ gi _ had a hole in it,” Kyo answered.

She frowned. “Another one?” She carefully stepped over the pile of clothes on the floor to grab the top off of the bed. Holding the garment up to inspect it, she asked “Where?”

Kyo shook his head. “ _ Had, _ ” he emphasized.

Tohru nodded. “The one in the shoulder? Yeah, I noticed it a few nights ago. Is it holding up okay?”

“Did you fix it?”

“Of course!”

“When?”

“Last night when I couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

“Did you fix all of these?”

Tohru blinked, confused by the line of questioning. She nodded. Of course she had mended them. Who else would have? “Are you upset that I fixed them?” She asked. Her face remained neutral, but the slight wavering in her voice displayed her nerves.

Kyo’s initial response was automatic. “N-no, I’m not…” he lowered the white undershirt back into the dresser. “I just didn’t…” he couldn’t finish the thought.

Was he upset that she fixed them? No. Actually, he was rather touched by the gesture. She knew how much he valued comfort and how well-loved his clothes were that she went out her way to preserve them. It was, at its core, the most kind gesture. The purest display of love that could possibly exist. Of course he wasn’t upset that she fixed them, no. The emotion was much more complicated than that.

It was the same feeling he had when she’d confessed to him two years prior, albeit on a much smaller scale. It was such a clear, irrefutable declaration of love that he was not expecting. He had spent so much of his life feeling not only undeserving of love, but turned off to the idea completely. He wasn’t the kind of person who could be loved. He didn’t deserve it. He was a terrible person, a monster. Whenever someone close to him tried to offer him love, he immediately became defensive.

That feeling, the feeling of being undeserving, had gotten better since he had met Tohru and especially since they had moved away together nearly a year ago. But it crept in occasionally. He was still plagued by negative thoughts sometimes. That small voice inside his head piped up every so often to tell him he didn’t deserve any of this. However, in her actions and with her words, she reminded him every day  _ you do deserve this _ . She didn’t have to say it verbatim; it was evident in all that she did for him.

He wasn’t upset, he was disarmed. There he had been, minding his own business, when the reminder of just how much she loved him and cared for him slapped him across the face. He needn’t ask the question  _ why _ , especially because he knew the answer. But knowing the answer didn’t make the display any less surprising. 

Tohru carefully side-stepped the piles of clothes, moving lightly on her tiptoes towards him, and wrapped her arms around his middle. He, in turn, wrapped his around her shoulders and brushed her hair with his lips. He couldn’t help it, he asked the question anyway.

“Why did you fix my  _ gi _ ?”

She pressed her chin against his chest, looking up at him with her wide, earnest eyes. “Because it’s your favorite one.” She answered simply, as if it had been obvious the whole time.

“I never said that,” he responded and she smiled at him.

“It was pretty obvious,” she mused. He raised his eyebrows waiting for her to continue. “You always reach for that one first,” she explained. “It’s certainly the softest and most broken in. Plus, it was a gift from Kunimitsu-san before our move. It’s special to you.”

And there it was. She was right, it was his favorite. It was the most comfortable. He didn’t attribute much to the fact that it was a gift, but her logic was sound. He was disarmed because, without saying a word, she told him ‘I get it. You love this. And because you love it and I love you, it’s precious to me. I’ll preserve it for you.’

She’d never have to speak the words ‘I love you’ if she didn’t want to. She said it to him in her gestures alone. She saw who he was at his core, appreciated it, and nurtured it so that it wouldn’t change. And as she did so, she reminded him  _ you deserve this. _

“Thank you,” he murmured, tucking a hand under her chin and tilting her head to meet her lips softly with his own. She beamed at him.

She returned her head to his chest, pressing her cheek against him until she could hear his heartbeat. “It’s a mess in here.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I had to come in here and see what other girly patches you put all over my stuff.” 

She pinched his back. “They’re not girly,” she insisted. “Besides, if you really never noticed until  _ today  _ that I’ve been fixing your clothes for four years, then you should be a little embarrassed,” she teased back.

“Lucky for you, your careful craftsmanship has made it so I never noticed.” He stepped back, retrieving the  _ gi _ top from the bed and held it out for her. “But you’ve gotten sloppy. Damn heart was bothering me all day.”

She pinched the heart between her fingers, confirming that it was a bit more pronounced than some of her other patches. “You’re right,” she nodded, her face taking on a grave (although clearly exaggerated) expression. “Certainly a manly patch would not be so itchy.”

“Exactly,” he confirmed. He reached down and gathered the pile of clothes in his arms, sitting on the bed with them so he could refold them and put them away. 

She planted a kiss on the top of his head before she turned to leave. “I’ll go make a very manly dinner to make up for it,” she said, grinning, and he rolled his eyes. 

* * *

The following morning, he left for work, his bag already packed with his other favorite  _ karategi _ and lunch he’d prepared the night before. He changed at the dojo, and, when met with the sound of snickers, quirked his eyebrows at the teen class before him.

“Nice heart,  _ shihan, _ ” one of the girls said, her palm covering her mouth.

Kyo craned his neck to look at his shoulder in the mirror and, sure enough, he was wearing the  _ gi  _ from yesterday, no doubt slipped into his bag by Tohru when he wasn’t looking. There, on his shoulder, was the hole with a new patch covering it. A small, pink heart in contrast with the black cotton. 

He shook his head, the smile on his face betraying the annoyance he was trying to convey. “God dammit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is...ridiculous in concept, but I don't care hahaha. Kyoru Week Day 5, prompt: precious. 
> 
> A song for you: The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson


	6. Sunset

It started as an innocuous statement. She might as well have been telling him about the weather or the grocery list. As Tohru Honda sat at the  _ chabudai _ table early one Fall Sunday morning, bent over her computer screen furiously reading its contents, she turned to her boyfriend, Kyo, and said “I think we should probably get married soon.”

Kyo Sohma chuckled into his cup of coffee. “Okay,” He responded. “Let me know when you have some free time and I’ll try to pencil you in.” He assumed she was joking given the glib manner in which she had made the comment. 

Tohru nodded, still entirely focused on the computer screen. “Yeah…maybe later this week...” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t think either of us have to work on Thursday.”

Kyo turned his whole body towards her, but she didn’t look up from the screen. Her lips were pursed, a delicate finger pressed to her chin. In the reflection of her reading glasses he saw her scrolling through an endless page of dense text. He watched her for a minute, both waiting to see if she would continue her comments and to appreciate just how adorable she looked right in that moment. Occasionally, she stopped scrolling and mouthed the words on the screen, following along to the important information she gleaned from whatever text she was reading.

“You want to get married,” Kyo summarized. “On Thursday. When we have the day off.”

She nodded vaguely and mumbled “Did you have something else you wanted to do on Thursday?” Finally, she stopped scrolling entirely and pressed her finger to the screen. “Aha! Found it.”

His curiosity got the best of him and he sidled around to her side of the table, gently nudging her over with his knee. On the screen was information about requirements for applying for a loan. Scanning the page further, the information specifically covered how one could apply for a housing loan in their ward of the country. Tohru grabbed a notebook from the floor next to her and jotted down the information on the screen.

“You want to get married on Thursday and then what?” Kyo asked. “Buy a house on Friday?”

“No, I think it takes much longer for the paperwork to process,” Tohru responded, finishing her notes and closing the laptop. “The house would probably have to wait until the summer at least.” She pulled off her reading glasses and neatly folded them on top of her notebook. “What do you think?”

Kyo just raised his eyebrows and smirked. He had no idea how to respond, seeing as his girlfriend had just quickly whipped together their future plans within the span of a few short minutes. It wasn’t the first time, of course, that they’d talked about marriage or buying a home. It was just the first time anything had been said in such a conclusive manner. 

They were true adults now in the eyes of the law. Their ward of the country asserted that both eligible parties must be at least 20 before applying to be married lest they have the approval of their parents. And seeing as Tohru’s parents were dead and Kyo’s only biological parent would rather see  _ him  _ dead, they didn’t have the luxury of asking permission.

The assumption was that marriage was on the horizon, but neither of them were really in any hurry. Their lifestyle was essentially that of a married couple, especially now that they were living together far from home. They both worked full time, both were contributing members of society. Marriage would come one day soon, certainly, but no one was rushing it.

In fact, both Kyo and Tohru asserted on their last visit home that they’d like to be settled in a home of their own before getting married or even thinking about children. It may have been unconventional, but they were determined to save enough money to buy a permanent residence in their new, coastal town.

Three years ago they moved away, nearly five hours from where they both grew up. Kyo was working as a martial arts instructor at a local dojo, owned by a dear friend of Kazuma’s, and Tohru initially worked at an elementary school before taking over as the dojo’s scheduling and billing consultant. While initially they lived with Kazuma’s friend, Takahashi, they scrounged up enough money after three months to move into a glorified shoebox. 

Their apartment was small, but it was their home. The single bedroom meant that they couldn’t have guests as often as Tohru would have liked (much to Kyo’s delight). The kitchen had just enough counter space to hold a rice cooker or chop vegetables, but certainly not both. The main area served as a living room, dining room, guest room, and craft room. It was cheap and it was functional, but more than anything it was  _ theirs.  _ From the shrine in the bedroom to the immaculate kitchen to the photographs of them and their friends on the wall, they had made this shoebox their home and, in the process, saved as much as they could of their wages.

In truth, they could have afforded a bigger apartment. They maybe even could have afforded to buy a small house when they first moved here, given the Sohma family’s strange and gratuitous allowance awarded to the Zodiacs (even the cat didn’t have to be forgotten financially). But that money was in an account neither Kyo or Tohru wished to touch. They never talked about what they’d use it for, though Kyo had it in his head that he wanted to save it for his future children, but they both wanted to save their own money and put it towards their future. It meant working a lot and living a frugal lifestyle, but it was all theirs.

Tohru was the one in their relationship who budgeted and handled bills. Kyo knew the very basics of finances, but Tohru, who was running the finances in the Honda household by the time she was in middle school, seemed to enjoy it. And she was good at it. Once Yuki taught her how to use a computer to pay all of her bills and track their expenses, she became an amateur accountant. She was meticulous and methodical, carefully keeping tabs on every receipt, every bank account balance, and every bill that was due. 

As their savings grew, Tohru and Kyo began informally looking for a home to buy. It wasn’t a very serious search, they simply went for walks around the neighborhood pointing out houses for sale and debating what they wanted in a home. Yuki had also sent Tohru a real estate website where she could look at local listings and compare the average prices with her budget. It was April now, and, since January, Tohru had been actively researching homes and the home-buying process.

But now her gears had shifted. They had decided to buy the house  _ first _ and then worry about marriage, children, and the rest of their lives. Curious as to what changed, Kyo asked her about her shift in mindset.

“When I was at the bank on Friday, the teller was asking about you,” Tohru explained. They’d grown quite fond of the local store personnel in their new town and Tohru was always making friends wherever she went. “He said that it is a great time to buy a home, but we’d have an even better chance of getting a good loan if we’re married.”

“Sounds kind of ridiculous,” Kyo commented. 

Tohru nodded. “That’s what I thought, but when I started looking at loan applications online and doing my research, he’s right. Joint household accounts are more likely to get a better rate.

“So then I started looking into getting married and it’s really not a lengthy process. It would take us maybe two hours maximum to do it and then, after a few weeks, we could look for a house and apply for a loan.” Kyo nodded, taking this all in. “Plus, with our lease ending this summer, it’s a good time.”

Kyo pondered this new information and tried not to laugh. It was so like her to view something as serious as marriage in such a practical light. She was never extravagant, nor did she like to be the center of attention. In her mind, they were essentially already married, the only thing that was missing was some paperwork and his last name.

Kyo didn’t romanticize the idea of a wedding either, really. It seemed like an expensive excuse to wear clothes he hated and be around his family. The only thing about marriage that really mattered to him was Tohru. It was the idea that Tohru Honda could become Tohru Sohma, declaring to the government and everyone else that she was truly his. And for her to wear a ring on her finger so that there would be no doubt.

But he also knew that while it may have been  _ their _ marriage, it wasn’t entirely about  _ them.  _ He would never hear the end of it if they got married at the municipal office without telling Uotani or Hanajima. He knew that, while Shishou would never say anything, it would mean the world for him to be there. And, one day, Tohru may look back and wish that they’d done  _ something  _ special, even if it wasn’t traditional.

“Do you really just want to fill out the paperwork and that’s it?” Kyo asked. “No ceremony, no ring, nothing?”

She pondered this, once again adorably pressing her finger to her lips. “Well, I think I’d probably like a simple ring,” she said. “But I’m not sure about the rest. Having a traditional ceremony is so expensive and I’d really hate to inconvenience everyone with such a long, drawn out process.”

Kyo chose not to address the fact that, if they did have a traditional wedding, the entire Sohma family would be over the moon rather than ‘inconvenienced.’ “But what about Uotani and Hanajima? What about the rat and Shishou?” Kyo asked. “You don’t want them there?”

Tohru frowned and it was clear to him that this thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “I guess Uo-chan and Hana-chan would be pretty upset if I got married and didn’t tell them…”

“Yeah, they’d probably try to kill me,” Kyo chuckled, imagining Uotani’s blind yankee rage. “Plus, think about how upset Ayame and Mine will be if they can’t make you a dress or furisode.” Her brow furrowed as his words sank in. “ _ Aaaaand _ think about our future children one day. They’ll be so disappointed when they hear that all their parents did to get married was ask a government official nicely.”

Tohru nodded and said, “You’re right, you’re right. I didn’t think about all of those things.” 

“So…” he said, waiting for her to decide on an alternative plan.

She raised her eyes towards the ceiling and thought for a minute, before turning to him, a gleam in her eye, as she said “I have an idea.”

* * *

“This is the most pitiful wedding I’ve ever seen.” Fanning her face with a stack of pamphlets, Arisa Uotani sat slumped in a plastic chair in the local municipal office.

“It is...fairly grim,” replied Yuki Sohma, equally uncomfortable in the stifling heat. 

“Would the two of you  _ please _ shut up?” Kyo asked. He wasn’t happy about it either. The tiny office where the three of them were currently stuffed was humid, a sheen of condensation glistening on the window, nearly blinding him as the late afternoon sunlight poured into the room.

A month ago he had suggested inviting the two of them. What an idiot he was. He should have taken Tohru’s idea and ran with it. Two hours, some signatures, and absolutely no family or friends at their wedding? Thinking about it now, it was the absolute dream.

“I’m just saying, you at least could have added some nice, romantic touches,” Arisa insisted. “Flowers, maybe? A tuxedo?”

“How about a bride?” Yuki added, chortling to himself. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” Tohru shouted, running into the room with Hanajima and Kazuma behind her. Kyo tried to ignore just how close the damn psychic was standing to Shishou as he rose to greet them.

“Tohru, please tell me this is a joke, right?” Arisa asked though she looked pointedly at Kyo as she spoke.

“We’ve been over this, Yankee,” Kyo said, through gritted teeth. He grabbed Tohru’s hand as she sat down in the chair beside his.

“Really, Uo-chan,” Tohru insisted, grabbing her friend’s wrist with her free hand. “This is what  _ I  _ wanted.”

“It’s lovely, Tohru-kun,” said Kazuma. And even though Kyo could tell he was being dishonest, he appreciated the sentiment. He stole one more glare at the Yankee before turning around.

“Did you remember everything to bring?” Kyo asked, his tone softening as he spoke with Tohru.

She held up the large shoulder bag as proof. “I didn’t forget a single thing,” she responded, her smile sweet. “Did  _ you  _ bring everything you needed?”

He responded by holding up his ratty gym bag and she giggled. They waited a few more minutes before the marriage registrar joined them. They’d met with Daisuke a few weeks ago to go over what they wanted. He winked as he walked into the tiny office.

“Hello there,” He responded, greeting the room. “Thank you all for coming, but we’ll need the room for a few minutes before we’re ready for you. There is a lovely balcony just outside the backdoor. How about you wait for me there?” 

Arisa and the rat grumbled, but obliged. Kazuma, who had been let in on the plan last week, turned to Kyo and Tohru, his eyes already wet. “See you in a few minutes,” he said, before ushering the rest of them through the door.

Daisuke sat at his desk and smiled warmly at Kyo and Tohru. “Okay, you two. Do you have all of your paperwork?”

Tohru pulled a pink file folder out of her bag. Inside was both of their birth certificates, signed marriage contracts, and her letter of intent to change her name. She handed everything to Daisuke and he gave her a new ID card with the family name Sohma listed where it used to say Honda. 

“You know,” Kyo said, a wicked grin on his face. “We can just  _ leave _ now and never see the rest of them again.” Tohru frowned at him in response and he said “Okay, okay, sorry. Just checking to see if you were coming around to  _ my  _ idea. Clearly the answer is no.”

“If you leave that means I will have to take care of your friends,” Daisuke reminded him. “Everyone vetoed that idea last week.”

Kyo groaned, but nodded. “ _ Fine _ ,” he said, though the sarcasm dripping in his tone was clearly forced. “I’ll go change. But just know you had the option.”

Tohru narrowed her eyes at him, but he waved her off. He grabbed his gym bag and went into the hall to the bathroom. Once the door closed, Tohru reached into her back and grabbed the wrapped box she had prepared for Kyo. “You’ll hold on to this for after, right?” She asked. Daisuke tucked in under his desk and nodded. Tohru grinned and rose to go to the bathroom to change. “I’ll see you in the lobby!”

* * *

Out on the back balcony, five individuals sat facing the ocean in the rapidly dimming autumn sunlight. Arisa and Saki sat together on one bench with Kazuma and Yuki sitting together on the other. 

Arisa’s patience was rapidly depleting. She blew a few loose strands of hair off of her face before saying “You know, if they make us wait any damn longer, we’re all gonna be sitting here in the dark.”

Daisuke joined them on the balcony. “They’re coming, I promise. Kazuma-dono, you can go ahead inside.”

Arisa grumbled under her breath “dammit, why does  _ he  _ get to go inside? The three former classmates sat outside, not talking, but each waiting as patiently as they possibly could. For Saki and Yuki, that meant slight fidgeting. For Arisa it meant continued cursing.

After a minute, Kyo joined them outside. He came and stood next to Daisuke, smirking at three of the closest friends he’s ever had ( _ God, that’s bleak,  _ he thought) and their vaguely annoyed faces. “You guys better fuckin’ smile, it’s a happy day.”

They stared at him, dumbfounded, and under their scrutiny, Kyo  _ strongly  _ resisted the urge to loosen his tie or untuck his shirt. As they continued to stare, clearly shocked he was wearing a suit and even  _ more  _ shocked that he was grinning ear to ear. 

“Damn,” Yuki said, clearly the most shocked out of the three of them. “You actually look...decent.” Arisa and Saki nodded. “Who knew you would ever wear a tie after graduation?”

“Last time it’s ever fuckin’ happening,” Kyo insisted. 

“What about for any of our weddings, jackass?” Asked Arisa.

“I’m sending Tohru as my proxy,” he replied with a smirk. “Now would you shut the hell up? She’s comin’ out soon.”

As he said those words, the door to the municipal office opened and Tohru emerged wearing a Western-style white dress. It wasn’t extravagant, but its silhouette hugged tightly to her chest and flared out with a tulle skirt just above her knees. Her hair, presumably curled by her beloved Hana-chan earlier in the day, was held in a loose updo by a gold hair clip that had belonged to her mother. When she had called Ayame and Mine to ask if they had anything in storage they could send her to wear, a week later a package with Kyo’s black suit and Tohru’s handmade custom dress arrived on their doorstep. Tohru cried the moment she opened it and Kyo actually teared up a bit, too.

But it was nothing compared to either of their crying now. The second she stepped out onto the small, concrete portico, and caught his eye, she started weeping. Shishou, standing at her left, handed her a tissue he’d been holding in his robe. He was crying, too. And seeing the both of them, tears openly flowing, made Kyo lose it as well. He couldn’t help it as a tear rolled down his cheek, hitting the lapel of his blazer. Followed by another and another. And the second she came to stand next to him, they both were a snotty, weepy mess.

Shishou returned to his seat next to Yuki, and Yuki, knowingly, put his hand on Kazuma’s forearm. 

As the sun set, casting deep pinks and bright oranges through the clouds above them, Kyo Sohma and Tohru Honda exchanged their wedding vows. They held tightly to each other’s hands the entire time, not even bothering to look at Daisuke or their meager audience as they repeated the traditional Shinto vows wearing Western clothing. They exchanged simple, matching gold wedding bands, giggled as they heard sobs from their friends, and laughed through their tears when Yuki offered Kazuma the sleeve of his shirt to cry into.

And ten minutes after they walked outside, they swore to one another that they would be together until the end of time. Always supportive. Always patient. Always respectful. Always in love. 

“Yes, I promise.”  _ Chikaimasu. _

* * *

They entertained Kazuma’s idea of having dinner altogether at a local restaurant. Before leaving, in the brief moment they had alone, Kyo reminded Tohru that they could ditch everyone else and just head home. But she gently kissed him as she loosened his tie and reminded him it was just a meal they had to get through before they could be alone. 

They were eating a nicer  _ yakiniku  _ restaurant, naturally suggested by Hanajima even though neither Kyo nor Tohru really preferred it. 

Kyo suffered through what felt like the longest meal of his life. Everyone at the table insisted on ‘saying a few words on their behalf.’ Some of the speeches were brief, especially the psychic’s and the rat’s. But Arisa spent roughly 15 minutes rambling and, at times, yelling through her tears about how proud she was. Kazuma, who had actually prepared a small speech, started crying and struggled to get through it without taking several crying breaks.

Yuki, Saki, and Arisa ordered several rounds of sake before their meal was even  _ ordered _ and continued to get drunker (and, as expected, more weepy) as the evening went on. They ordered several course’s worth of food and then Yuki presented a cake he had purchased to celebrate the occasion. They were presented with gifts, mostly sentimental ones aimed at Tohru from the three twenty year olds, but also an unreasonably large check from Kazuma, which Tohru spent approximately 30 minutes insisting they couldn’t accept. Yuki brought a canvas tote stuffed with cards and gifts from the rest of the Sohma clan.

When the check was finally paid, Kyo stood before everyone else, grabbing Tohru’s hand as he did so, and announced “Well thanks, everyone, but it’s getting late.” 

“That’s rude,” Yuki muttered drunkenly.

“Shut up,” Kyo retorted as Tohru stood next to him. “I just sat through a long-ass dinner with you and didn’t complain the whole time. You’re welcome.”

“Plus, we’ll see you in the morning for breakfast!” Tohru exclaimed, stepping around the table to give each person a hug. “Are you sure you can get back to the guesthouse by yourselves?”

“Yep,” Kyo responded. “They’re sure. Shishou, thanks for dinner. See you in the morning. Bye.”

As he pulled Tohru out onto the street, he couldn’t help but stop to kiss her deeply. She giggled as she did so, eyes tearing up once more. “That was a long dinner,” she admitted after pulling away. She reached for his hand and gently tugged him in the general direction of their home. “Come on,  _ husband,  _ let’s go home.”

They ascended the four flights of stairs to their apartment and unlocked the door. For an unknown reason, Kyo felt his nerves ignite. It wasn’t because it was their first night as husband and wife, no, they’d crossed the intimacy bridge years ago. It was truly the first night of the rest of their lives.

“I have something for you,” He said as he slipped off his wildly uncomfortable shoes.

“I have something for you, too!” She exclaimed. “I was going to give it to you earlier, but we didn’t really have a chance.” She reached into her bag and removed the gift. “Here, take it with you to the bedroom and I’ll meet you there. I just want to take my hair out in the bathroom first.”

He entered their room and pulled the box he had for her out from under a stack of shirts in his dresser. He carefully hung the blazer in the closet along with his tie while he waited for her and then sat on the bed, sliding her present in front of him and leaving the one she’d wrapped next to him.

Tohru emerged from the bathroom after a few minutes, out of her dress and wearing a simple white silk  _ yukata _ . She had it tied loosely around her waist, the neckline dipping deliciously low and the hem ending just at the middle of her thighs. Her hair, previously set in curls and tied back, floated loosely around her face, traces of curls still visible at the very ends. She wore a set of ornately woven lace stockings, which ended just where the  _ yukata  _ began. A light, pink blush crept across her cheeks as she sat across from him. Kyo felt all of the air forced from his lungs. She was a vision.

He quickly shoved the gifts aside. “Gifts later,” he begged and she smiled as she grabbed his hands.

“Gifts first, please,” She requested. And though his entire body screamed in protest, he didn’t deny her.

“Fine,” he agreed, trying to focus his gaze away from her cleavage and whatever the hell was under that  _ yukata _ . 

She placed her long, thin package in his hands. “You first,” she insisted. He carefully unfurled the ribbon and tore through the wrapping paper. As he unwrapped the gift she hurriedly explained “I got you one practical gift and one silly gift, but if you don’t like them…”

He bopped her on the head with the lid of the box before he looked inside. “Oh, would you hush. I already love them.”

“But you haven’t seen them!” She exclaimed and shoved the box back into his hands. He pulled the larger gift out first. It was a simple, nondescript book with a soft leather cover. As he opened the cover to see the lettering she took his hand and said “Really, it’s silly. It’s okay if you don’t like it.”

He ran his fingers over the raised lettering of the inside cover.  _ Kyo and Tohru Sohma. _ As he read it, he felt the backs of his eyes sting and his throat close. When he turned to the first page and saw the first picture taken of just the two of them, a tear ran down his cheek. 

“I didn’t even know this picture existed,” he said, choking on his words. 

It was the two of them at one of the shrines in Kyoto. They were standing together, Kyo balancing his arm on the top of her head and smirking. Tohru had a wide grin, her eyes not looking at the camera, but rather laughing at whatever he had been saying then. They both had a faint blush painted on their cheeks. 

“Hana-chan took it,” she explained, also tearing up. “I didn’t think you ever saw it. I held onto it. Actually, I kept it under my pillow when we lived with Shigure-san.”

He smiled at her. “I would say that’s really dorky and embarrassing, but I would have done the same thing if I knew it existed, honestly.” 

She giggled and sidled up to his side as he flipped through the rest of the book. He knew the rest of the pictures well, pictures from graduation with, thankfully, the rest of their friends cropped out. Pictures of them on the day they had moved. Pictures of them in their new home. Candids of them eating or cooking together. 

He closed the book and kissed her sweetly on the lips. “I love it, thank you.” She smiled and wiped her tears with her hand. As she did so, he caught the gleam of her wedding ring in the dim light and his heart constricted once more. “I have an idea, actually.”

“An idea?” She asked.

“Yeah, hear me out,” He insisted. “I got you a practical gift and a silly gift, too. But I only want to give you the silly one tonight because it really goes with your gift. We can do practical tomorrow.”

Tohru smiled and nodded. “I agree. Only mushy for tonight.” She reached for the box next to him and he presented it to her. It wasn’t nearly as neatly wrapped and the only damn wrapping paper he could find in their apartment had pumpkins on it, but whatever. She gently unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Inside was a slightly thicker book, bound with a beige canvas cover. 

She opened it and, just like he was minutes ago, was struck by the raised letter on the first page. She immediately devolved into sobs, resting her head on Kyo’s shoulder as she read it over and over again.  _ The Sohma Family. _

There was a single page with a picture and a small note written in calligraphic handwriting. It was a picture of them, in their wedding garb prepared by Ayame, taken with Tohru’s phone three weeks ago when they’d first received a package. They were standing in the apartment against the living room wall, phone propped up across the room. It certainly wasn’t a conventional wedding picture, but they certainly didn’t have a conventional wedding. Beneath the picture was the date they had planned for their wedding and those same words she had printed in her book.  _ Kyo and Tohru Sohma. _

“Did you write this?” Tohru asked through her sniffles, running her fingers across the words.

“Hell no,” Kyo responded, laughing. “I asked Hanajima to do it for me. She wanted me to  _ pay  _ her. I sent her a gift basket with food instead.”

She beamed at him, eyes red, but sparkling. “Kyo-kun, that’s even  _ more  _ sweet that you asked her for help. I love it. But why is the rest blank?”

Kyo rapped her on the head with his knuckles. “Dummy,” he said, his voice affectionate. “That’s for us to fill up for the rest of ever. With kids or cats or goblins we find outside. It’s the Sohma  _ family _ .”

She kissed him sweetly on the lips, shuffling into his lap as she did so. “Thank you. I really, really love it.” She kissed him once more and then pressed her forehead to his.

“Okay, can I open my last present now?”

Tohru’s brow furrowed. “I thought we said tomorrow?”

“No, no,” Kyo responded, gently untying the sash on her  _ yukata _ as he pressed his lips to her jawline. “Not what I meant.” She giggled as she shrugged out of her robe, revealing the elaborate, see-through lingerie that Ayame had sent her a week later. 

“Okay, okay, I suppose you can,  _ husband _ ,” she teased.

He pressed his lips to her breast and hummed in appreciation. “Happy wedding,  _ Mrs.  _ Sohma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got married in March right before my state shut down! My husband and I didn't want to ever get married (we've been together for 6 years), but then he needed health insurance and I had it, soooooo we did it. I started working on this piece right after we officially got married, but it was a WIP for a long time. 
> 
> For some reason, I hardcore headcanon these two not having a fancy or traditional wedding. Neither Tohru nor Kyo like being in the center of attention and Tohru is so frugal. Idk it just makes sense to me. I know it is definitely not the usual "Marriage of Tohru and Kyo" and I really do love pieces where the wedding is elaborate, Shinto or Western. But for me, this is how I imagine it. Please enjoy!


	7. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sexual tension and fluff with absolutely no plot. Thanks for reading this absolutely ridiculous piece :D

Kyo made the discovery unexpectedly. He walked into their home, grocery bags in tow, the sound of bubbly, sickeningly sweet pop music floating into the entryway from somewhere within the house. He called out for his wife, Tohru, but she didn’t respond. After putting away the perishables, he went to investigate.

He found her sitting in their bathroom sink, a comb in one hand and a pair of sewing shears in the other. She was hyper-focused, meticulously combing her bangs and measuring with her fingers the desired length.

Her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth and her pale cheeks were dusted with pink, as if she had just come in from the cold. She didn’t look up when he appeared in the doorway, no doubt completely oblivious to the world around her. Between the music and the task at hand, he imagined he could stand there, on fire, and she wouldn't even notice.

It was endearing and he took the moment to appreciate just how cute she looked. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt, one of his, lacy pink underwear, and nothing else. Even now, seeing her delectable skin exposed sent a blush to his cheeks. Kyo didn’t think he would ever grow tired or complacent seeing her, dressed (or undressed) in such a way, completely accessible for him to hold, touch, kiss...everything. 

He cleared his throat, but she didn’t look up. He waited until after the scissors clamped down on a piece of her hair, sending a flurry of brown strands down the front of her shirt, to say her name.

“Oh!” She yelped, dropping the scissors in her lap and whirling around to greet him. “You surprised me. Welcome home!” She leaned backwards and craned her neck away from the mirror, leaning into him to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I’m home,” he whispered, gently pressing her back up to a seated position in the sink. “What the hell are you doing?”

“My hair was way too long,” She explained, turning to the mirror and frowning at her appearance. “It keeps flopping into my eyes whenever I try to do something. So I decided to trim it.”

“Is this something you do often?” Kyo asked.

“Of course!” She exclaimed. “Do you know how expensive haircuts are?” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her response. They both worked, had a steady income, and a nice savings account, but even so she was frugal. Tohru would always rather do something herself than pay someone else to do it for her. Although he’d never seen her cut her hair, he couldn’t say he was surprised that it was something she did routinely. 

Tohru continued talking as she sectioned off another piece of her bangs to cut. Kyo leaned on the door frame, arms crossed, content to just listen to and watch her. “Hana-chan used to do it for me, but now that we live so far from each other, I figured I could learn to do it myself. To keep it up, you know?” She made a few more cuts, all while babbling about how Hanajima loved to do hair and always was trying new styles on Tohru and the yankee. “It’s actually easier than I thought!” She beamed, climbing out of the sink and gently dusting the hair trimmings from her chest towards the drain.

She wrapped her arms around his midsection and he tousled her newly trimmed locks. “Alright,” Kyo mused, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll take a haircut next.”

She stiffened and pulled away, expression absolutely horrified. “N-no,” she stuttered, waving her hands in front of her face. “No. I don’t want to mess up.”

Kyo smirked. “I thought you said it was easy,” he teased, taking a step into the bathroom towards her.

She planted her palms on his stomach and took a step back, her heels bumping against the bathtub behind her. “It  _ is  _ easy on  _ my _ hair,” she explained. “I have never cut anyone else’s.”

He closed the distance between them, gently resting his hand on the small of her back so she wouldn’t tip backwards into the tub. “I have faith in you.”

Tohru smirked in response, quirking one eyebrow up. “You really shouldn’t.”

He fumbled behind him to grab the shears from the sink. Planting them in her palm, he tried to put on his most pleading expression. “Please?” He asked. “My hair is too long. It keeps flopping into my eyes whenever I try to do something.” 

Tohru searched his face, looking for any signs that he was joking, but he was earnest. A million excuses floated through her head, but she couldn’t utter a single one. She reached up and ran her hand through his hair. He  _ was  _ shaggy, definitely in need of a trim. If she followed the natural lines of his hair, it probably wouldn’t be too hard.

She curled her hand around the shears and said, “Fine, but you have to let me get my salon ready.” She pushed him forward and out of the bathroom door. He smirked as she ushered him out of the bedroom entirely, closing the door behind her.

Minutes later, Kyo was summoned into the room once more. Tohru had shoved a chair into the tiny bathroom and draped it with a towel. She opened her arms wide, presenting what Kyo could only assume was the ‘salon’ with a grand “Ta-da!”

“It’s a towel,” Kyo deadpanned in response. Tohru grimaced.

“It’s a salon,” she insisted, planting a hand on her hip. She ushered him to sit in the chair and she neatly wrapped the towel around his torso, holding it together behind his neck with a hair clip. She turned towards the sink where a pair of scissors, a comb, and a spray bottle were waiting for her.

She’d slipped a pair of his black joggers over her previously-bare legs and he frowned at how baggy they were around her figure. “Why’d you put on pants?” 

Tohru turned back toward him with a spray bottle and comb in hand. She smirked at him. “Because you are not to be trusted,” she said. “Now close your eyes, please.” 

He obliged as she spritzed his hair with water. “How could you think so low of me?” He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m nothing if not a total gentleman.”

She ran the comb through his hair as she chuckled. “You  _ are  _ a total gentleman. In public. Or when people are over.” Once satisfied with his wet hair, she turned back to the sink to grab the scissors.

He took the opportunity with her back to him to lightly pinch her on her bottom. She squeaked in response and he grinned. “It’s just too much fabric,” he flirted. “I feel like you’d be  _ much _ more comfortable in a skirt if you have to wear something.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, no, I don’t think so.” She grabbed a lock of hair and ordered “Now be quiet. I’m trying to focus.”

As he felt the scissors snap down on his hair, Kyo acquiesced. “Fine, fine, I’ll be quiet.”

And he  _ was  _ quiet and patient as she trimmed the back of his hair. He smiled to himself as she hummed along to whatever song was stuck in her head from earlier. It felt nice, actually, to have her hands raking through his hair over and over again. Definitely much nicer than any professional who had ever cut his hair. 

As she was brushing the loose hairs off of his neck, he said “You know, if you do a good job I’ll hire you.”

She giggled as she came to his left ear, twisting an auburn lock of hair in her fingers. “I don’t think I could replace a professional, Kyo-kun.” She clipped the lock and he saw a flurry of trimmed hair land on the towel. “Now seriously, be quiet. When you talk your head moves.”

“Right, sorry,” he said, over-exaggerating as he clamped his mouth shut. She resumed her humming and Kyo gently traced her thigh with his fingers. She said nothing, but he heard her breath hitch in her throat when his hand first made contact. He reached around her backside once more, cupping her butt and squeezing gently. Again, her breathing stuttered, but she said nothing, instead attempting to hyperfocus. But Kyo was having no fun, so he tugged on the elastic waistband, exposing the very top of her underwear.

“ _ Kyo-kun _ ,” she scolded. When he turned his head to look at her the blush across her cheeks betrayed the angry expression she was trying to portray. 

“I was being quiet!” He insisted, holding up his hands to display his innocence.

Tohru pouted and gently stomped her foot. “Okay, but you have to keep your hands to yourself, too.”

He mirrored her pouty expression right back at her. “But I don’t  _ want  _ to.” She started to say his name again, but he cut her off. “Look, why don’t we compromise here?”

She scowled at him, scissors in hand. “I don’t want to compromise.”

He shook his head with a smile. “ _ You’re  _ the one who always tells people ‘compromise is so important for a healthy relationship.’” He mimicked a high-pitched voice. “Are you telling me you’re a liar?”

She narrowed her eyes even more. “ _ No _ ,” she insisted.

“Perfect! I was going to say that you seem kind of warm…” He suggested. “If you just take off the sweatpants, I will shut up and keep my hands to myself.”

She scoffed, but wiggled out of the joggers nonetheless. “Can you  _ please  _ let me finish, now?”

“Oh, I always intend to let you finish.”

Tohru grunted a laugh. She turned around and bent down to pick up and fold the joggers and Kyo did everything he possibly could to restrain himself from grabbing her hips and pulling her down into his lap. She neatly folded them before grabbing the scissors once more. 

She moved around to the right side of his head, once more pinching his hair between her fingers. But before she could clamp down, she fumbled and the scissors spilled out of her hands and on the floor on the opposite side.

“God, would you be careful?” Kyo asked, thankful the scissors didn’t impale either of them.

Tohru grinned and replied “I thought you were going to be quiet.” She bent over his lap to grab the scissors from the floor, brushing her chest against the zipper in his pants as she rose to stand back up.

This time it was  _ his  _ breath that hitched in the back of his throat.  _ Oh _ . She was doing it on purpose. She returned to standing by his side and he tried to regulate his breathing. She carefully made a few more cuts on the side of his head before stooping down to check the length over his ear. Kyo could feel her warm breath against the side of his neck and he immediately felt all of his hair stand up on end. As she rose to stand once more, she brushed her lips against his ear and he shuddered.

Tohru moved to the front of his head and sprayed him with water there once more before grabbing the scissors. “Look up, please,” she said.

He obliged, looking up at her perfect face. Her deep chocolate eyes were focused on the task at hand, bottom lip curled under her teeth. Her cheeks were streaked with pink and the tips of her ears matched. The longer he stared at her, the more desirous he became. He slowly reached out and grabbed her hips, brushing his fingers along the soft skin.

“Kyo-kun…” She warned, but her tone was breathy.

“That’s it,” he promised, gently squeezing her hips where the black lace rested. “Just let me keep my hands here.” He continued to trace the contours of her legs with his fingertips. She gulped down a large breath and then agreed. 

The rest of his haircut only took a few minutes, but it felt like forever. As she watched her make the final cut, he breathed out. Releasing the tension he’d been holding in for the past 20 minutes. Tohru bent over to check her work, measuring with her fingers before nodding, satisfied, and leaning forward to kiss him.

“Satisfied, madam?” Kyo asked.

“Yes, it looks good,” Tohru responded. She unclipped the towel behind him and tossed it into the bathtub for her to rinse out later.

“So you’re done?” 

“Yes, I just need to clean up before--hey!” She gasped as he rose to his feet and swept her up in her arms. She giggled. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing what  _ you _ started,” he said, tossing her the few remaining steps onto their bed. He wrenched his shirt over his head before joining her, closing the space between them.

Tohru pressed her hands into his back as he joined her. “I don’t think you’re supposed to finish a haircut this way,” she joked, giggling as he worked her ( _ his _ ) shirt over her head.

“Sorry, but when your barber likes to tease you, there’s only one response,” He replied, casting the shirt to the floor before burying his head in her neck. “Thanks for the haircut,” he mumbled, lips leaving a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her breast.

She gently pressed her nails into his skin, arching her back and sighing as he kissed her. “Thanks for  _ trying _ to keep your hands to yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyo and Tohru are married from here on out, so if you don't enjoy post-canon stories I am just warning you! This piece is inspired by a chapter in 50 Shades of Grey, E.L. James DON'T @ me. It's fine. It's Kyoru instead, so it may actually be enjoyable to read.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh don't mind me just finishing this 2+ months late. I've written six different options for this chapter so they'll probably end up being one-shots at some point. 
> 
> post-canon Furuba and pre-canon Furubana fluff and angst.

Kyo has a crooked nose. It was one of the first things Tohru noticed once she had full access to staring at his face, though she had spent plenty of time _before_ they were ever together staring at his face as well. The place where the bridge of his nose deviates from its traditional path is a dead giveaway.

For a long time, it really bothered her. When she first reached out to gently trace the jagged slope with her finger, Kyo smiled at her. A side effect of having it broken at least a dozen times in his life.

It wasn’t the shape or aesthetics of his nose that were the problem, it was the fact that anyone would ever  _ dare  _ hurt him. She cupped his cheek in her hand and frowned, trying to ignore her temper simmering under her skin. It wasn’t as if she actually had the capability to protect him, especially not physically, but nevertheless.

Kyo assured her that he thoroughly deserved to have his nose broken. He reminded her that a handful of times it happened was when she was actually present.  _ It was all Yuki and Haru,  _ he told her.  _ Coupla’ assholes. _ Although, of course, he at least broke Haru’s nose in return. He never did get the chance to return the favor to Yuki. Maybe one day. Either way, Kyo just laughed it off.

Shishou showed her a picture of what he dubbed ‘the worst Kyo has ever looked.’ It was a middle school class picture. He stood in the back row, a scowl on his face. His eye had a deep, purple crescent moon underneath it. It was taken only a year before they met.

His nose wasn’t the only giveaway of the tumultuous childhood he had. He had plenty of tiny scars all over his hands, proof that he’d been known to punch through unsuspecting windows. He had a puckered spot on his shin, which he blamed on Kagura knocking him into a boulder. But just below Kyo’s left eyebrow laid a deep groove, only about a centimeter long. 

Tohru only received a very cursory explanation of that mark. It was clear Kyo was  _ not  _ keen to talk about it. A permanent reminder of the abuse he’d received before the age of five. His mother had a matching one on her cheek. A dinner gone awry; that was all Kyo wished to explain. Tohru didn’t need the details anyway.

The marks on his body made her want to cry. She couldn’t stomach the thought of anyone  _ intentionally _ hurting him. And she especially couldn’t stand the physical reminder of what he’d suffered mentally as well. The years of ridicule, abuse, victimization, and fear he had to face. Sometimes it made her cry to think about. While Kyo would assure her that he was  _ fine _ , that it was all in the past, that he’d let it all go, it still tore at her heart.

“Everyone’s got scars, Tohru,” her mother had said to her in middle school. “Even if you can’t see ‘em, they’re there.” Her mother assured her that scars weren’t a bad thing. They were just evidence of the past. “It’s what you do  _ after _ you’re hurt that matters.”

But if those physical reminders of his past pain bothered Tohru,  _ her  _ scars bothered him even more. 

Her hands were littered with tiny pockmarks. Burns from pans or the racks in the oven. Tiny punctures from poking herself with a knife on more occasions than she was willing to admit. She had a piece of pencil lead permanently buried in her palm from a mechanical pencil stabbing her while she dug through her bag back in high school.

Her knees had permanent marks from the amount of times she’d tripped and tore through her tights. She gritted her teeth not just because she’d have to buy  _ another _ new pair of stockings, but because she could never quite believe how she was  _ so _ clumsy.

Those weren’t the scars that bothered him, especially seeing as she continued to be clumsy well into adulthood. It was the scars she found him tracing in the middle of the night. The scars he would fix his gaze on when she was able to wear summer clothing again. The scars that their son asked about on occasion, only to be met with two adults who couldn’t fathom a way to answer.

Just as Kyo assured her that his scars were nothing to worry about, she did the same for him. It didn’t stop him from pressing three of his fingers to the three parallel lines on her shoulder. It didn’t stop his face from twisting to a look of pain that broke her heart. It didn’t stop him from repeating over and over out loud how sorry he was and it certainly didn’t stop whatever awful things he was saying to himself in his head. 

He had a different reaction whenever she caught him staring at the scar on her opposite side. Long and thin, but deep; the tiny suture marks still very much visible even years later. When she caught him staring at  _ that _ , she could feel the tension radiating off of him. His jaw would set, teeth clamped together, mouth set in a scowl. No matter the weather, Tohru always made sure to wear long sleeves whenever Akito and Kyo were together with her in a room, though that had only happened a handful of times since they’d left home. 

They were a patchwork quilt of defects, but her mother had, of course, been right all those years ago. It’s what you do  _ after _ that matters.

And  _ after  _ all of the trauma, the injuries both physical and emotional, what they did together mattered more than ever. Because they created Hajime. And Hajime is the most perfect little boy she has ever known.

Hajime does not know anger. He does not know rejection or exclusion. He does not know judgement or loneliness. Hajime is surrounded every day by love and, in turn, returns it to his parents and those around him. He is kind, empathetic. He is precocious and articulate at only the age of two. He is everything she ever could have dreamed of.

True, that she and Kyo spent hours when he was an infant just staring at him as he slept. At his porcelain face, framed by vibrant red hair and his tiny, cherubic hands. Even now, Hajime’s parents find tranquility in simply watching him play, basking in the smile on his face and returning it back wholeheartedly. Hajime is the center of their world. He melts any residual anger and soothes the pain that lingers in the two of them. 

They are inseparable, the three of them. Hajime joins both of his parents at work every day, following papa around the dojo between classes and playing at Tohru’s feet when the after-school crowd comes rushing in. He helps cook meals, as much as a toddler can, and grabs each of their hands as they go for walks along the shoreline in the evening.

As of late, he winds up in their bed at dawn every day. Sometimes being held by Tohru, other times by Kyo, but oftentimes placed squarely in the center, where both of his parents can cocoon him and squeeze another hour of sleep out of the morning before they can start their day together.

Today, Hajime rose from bed earlier than the sun, and Tohru heard through thick, sleepy ears the sound of Kyo plucking him up by the arm and hauling him up to their bed to share his pillow. She felt the blankets shift subtly as the two boys snuggled in close to succumb once more to silence and calm.

It’s a shrill cry that wakes her up. She bolts upright in bed next to Kyo, who is pulling Hajime up from the floor. Hajime screams in agony as Kyo wraps him up in the blanket, rising to his feet in a hurried panic. Tohru looks on in horror as Kyo holds a corner of the blanket over Hajime’s face, which is profusely bleeding, and she leaps to her feet.

It is a deep, albeit small cut under his eyebrow. Once Hajime’s panicked parents figure out that they alone will not be able to stop the bleeding, Tohru throws yesterday’s dress from the laundry basket over her pajamas. Kyo grabs his t-shirt from the floor and they hurry out to the car, where Tohru sits with Hajime to keep him calm and keep the now-soiled blanket pressed to his face.

Hajime leaves the hospital with three tiny stitches, a swollen eye, and a frown, all courtesy of the sharp corner of the bedside table he collided with when he rolled too far toward the edge. 

At home, Hajime curls up on their bed with the two of them, safely in the middle, a parental shield on either side of him. He falls asleep for an early nap, no doubt a result of the morning’s trauma and the child-sized dose of medicine they gave him to calm the pain and swelling.

After an hour of just watching Hajime sleep, Tohru rises to heat up a late breakfast and returns, two steaming bowls of ramen on a tray in her hands, to find Kyo staring fixedly on the mark, tears in his eyes, as he grabs his son’s hand as gently as possible so as not to wake him. Tohru rests the tray on the offending nightstand and curls herself into Kyo’s lap.

“It’s gonna leave a scar,” Kyo whispers, brushing his lips against her hair. She can’t fathom a supportive response, so she just nods against his chest. “I don’t want him to have a scar.” She nods once more. She doesn’t want Hajime to have a scar, either. She doesn’t want him to ever hurt. She doesn’t want the reminder of doctors stitching him up while he wailed. 

“Now’s the time when you’re supposed to give a positive Kyoko/Tohru spin on things,” Kyo suggests, wrapping his palm under her chin, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’s trying to cheer himself up, too. “Didn’t your mom have a whole speech about scars?”

Tohru returns his slight smile. “She did, but I think she was referring to being mugged with a knife or in a fight.” She giggles softly, picturing her mom’s speech if she were here right now. “But she once fainted when I had a bloody nose, so she would be no good in this situation.”

They fall silent and Tohru returns her head to his chest. As they sit there in contemplative silence, a tidal wave of guilt crashes down upon the two of them. She can feel it well up in her chest and she can hear Kyo’s breathing give him away. 

Scars are a part of each of  _ their  _ lives, but not what either of them ever wanted for Hajime. Logically, she knows that kids get hurt all the time. She used to work in a school and now that they both work at the dojo, bandages and first aid kits are a part of their daily lives. But seeing her own child hurt, bleeding, and marked, even though there is  _ nothing  _ she could have done to prevent it makes her feel sick to her stomach.

Tohru breaks the silence and asks “Do you think a sparring helmet would fit his head?” Kyo snorts and she smiles, though she is partially serious. “Really!” She exclaims, a little too loudly and he hushes her. “At least until it heals...we don’t want it to get worse.” She whispers the last part.

Kyo hugs her tightly into his chest again. “I’ll try to find one his size.”

* * *

The same night, Tohru sits on their bed folding laundry. From the baby monitor, she hears Kyo read Hajime a bedtime story, her heart melting, as it always seems to, whenever he gets into it and switches up his voice for each of the characters. She hears the gentle thump of the hardback closing and being set up on the bookshelf next to Hajime’s bed. She continues to listen as Hajime and Kyo both yawn.

“Papa?” Hajime asks, his little voice floating through the monitor like music. Kyo prompts him to continue and Hajime says “Papa match?” Tohru rises to peek out of their bedroom door across the hall, curious as to what Hajime is saying.

“Match what?” Kyo asks, puzzlement lacing his tone. 

Hajime sits up and reaches his hand out to point to Kyo’s left eyebrow and the scar that sits just below it. With his other hand, he touches his own stitched up brow, though his is on the right side. Tohru smiles as she looks at her husband and Hajime. Hajime points out the scar with no mal-intent and no judgement, just making an observation as he tends to do.

“Yeah, guess we do match, huh?” Kyo responds, smiling and kissing his son gently on his injury. Hajime returns the favor, missing Kyo’s scar entirely and landing a kiss on his temple instead. “You know what mama always says when we match…” Kyo says, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he settles Hajime back down under the blankets. “ _ Aw, so cute. _ ” Kyo croons in a high-pitched voice.

Hajime giggles, a musical sound, and recites a toddler version of her frequent catchphrase “ _ I take a picture _ .”

“I love you, Hajime,” Kyo whispers, kissing the crown of his son’s head.

“Love you, too,” Hajime breathes, cuddling closer to his side. “ _ So cute. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well I finally finished this story (more like a collection of one-shots really)
> 
> I hope you like this final chapter! I know there are some people out there who aren't as into parental Kyoru fluff, so sorry if this doesn't appeal to you. May I direct you to chapter one's angst? Perhaps chapter seven's sexual tension? 
> 
> I am gotemsayingw0w on tumblr and gotemsayingwow on FFN. Come follow me there, too, as I simp for Kyoru.


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